by Benita Brown
She’d decided that they had to walk. They couldn’t risk taking the tram or a cab because a couple so distinctive - Valentino so big and powerful and herself so small and oddly shaped - would probably be remembered.
Her knees began to hurt as the way grew steeper and she had to rest for a moment on the corner of one of the streets that cut down at a right angle towards the river. She grasped the iron railings of the house behind her and breathed hard, motioning for her husband to wait by her side.
Before she had caught her breath she heard the clip-clop of hoofs on cobbles and the jangle of a harness. She looked down the way they had come and saw coach lamps cutting through the damp night air. Could this be Gerald coming home? It was probably about the right time. She looked round in panic and then realized with relief that they were there. This was the street where the Sowerbys lived.
She took hold of Valentino’s hand and pulled him round the corner. She knew that the cab would stop at the top of the street because the cab drivers were unwilling to negotiate the steep gradient of the streets that led down to Scotswood Road. So they should have time to reach the house before he did. But, almost immediately, they had to slow down again. The damp air had made the paving stones slippery; they would have to take care.
Nella heard the cab driver shout, ‘Whoa!’ and the cab come to a stop just as she and Valentino reached the Sowerbys’ house. She looked around ... she wanted to surprise him. She didn’t want him to be on his guard. The area yard ... that was it...
Swiftly she pulled Valentino down the stone steps until their heads would be hidden from street level. She could hear footsteps coming down the street towards them. They were slightly unsteady. There was a streetlamp not far away so they had to crouch low but, as the footsteps came nearer and nearer Nella raised her head and craned her neck round until she could peer up the street. It was Gerald - she was sure of it. They had got here just in time.
And then, as the bulky figure drew nearer and began to slow down a little, Nella wondered what she was doing there. Did she really intend to kill a man tonight? She glanced round at her husband, waiting obediently and unquestioningly a few steps below her. Valentino adored her; he would do anything she asked him to.
At the moment he was gentle as a lamb - with her he always had been. But Frank had told her that before she had come into his life and given it a purpose, Valentino had shown signs of a developing a dangerous rage.
Those big hands, which could span her waist with room to spare, and which were so gentle when he picked her up and held her in his arms, could just as easily snap somebody’s neck - if she wanted them to.
Suddenly Valentino tilted his head a little so that the lamplight fell across his face. He was smiling at her. He thinks this is all a game, she thought. He’s an innocent. She felt uneasy; did she have the right to turn him into a murderer?
But then she remembered that just below them, on the rough concrete of the yard, Gerald had raped Constance and destroyed her happiness.
Gerald knew he’d had too much to drink. Russell and Carmichael had had to get him into the cab and he could barely remember the journey home. Then the driver had got down to haul him out and had hung on to him until he was steady enough on his feet to dig into his pocket for the fare.
Had he given the correct fair? He remembered digging into his pocket for his loose change and holding his hand out so that the driver could choose the coins himself. He hoped he hadn’t been cheated. If I find out he’s cheated me I’ll see he loses his licence, Gerald thought.
And then, even though the man had said, ‘Now get along carefully, sir,’ he’d shown no respect. The fug in his brain had cleared enough for Gerald to sense that he was laughing at him.
Whoops! The pavement was damp and greasy, and he found himself sliding down hill like a boy on a frost slide. He managed to grab on to the railings and right himself. He giggled. But, a moment later he sobered up as he anticipated the undoubted confrontation that awaited him with his father.
The old man had taken to waiting up for him. He’d have to face another interminable lecture about the evils of drink and letting it get the better of you. Sometimes his mother would be hovering on the landing bleating on about him neglecting his studies and how all she wanted was for him to qualify and be a respectable doctor.
Well, there was one thing she didn’t know yet. As soon as he was qualified he would be off to find a home of his own. He wouldn’t stay here and be treated like a child one minute longer than he had to.
‘My God, who are you?’
Gerald pulled up short just a few yards way from the steps that led up to his front door. A diminutive figure - a woman - seemed to have jumped up out of the ground and now she was standing before him, stopping him from going any further.
‘Get out of my way! Did you hear me? Be off with you!’
The woman had a shawl pulled up over her head. Gerald stared at her blearily. It looked like the old beggar-woman who sometimes came up the street from Scotswood.
‘Here,’ he said, and brought out a couple of coins and held them out to her. ‘Take this and go away.’
She raised her hand and knocked his viciously, sending the money flying. He stumbled backwards in shock. ‘Steady on,’ he said. ‘What’d you do that for?’
He had fallen back against the railings and he stayed there staring at her owlishly.
‘I know what you did,’ she said, and even in his fuddled state he detected the hatred.
He pushed himself upright. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know very well what I’m talking about. I know what you did that night and it’s time you paid for it.’
Gerald frowned; he thought he recognized the voice and yet it couldn’t be ...
‘Who are you?’ he asked, and he began to feel uneasy.
The woman pulled the shawl away from her face and let it fall down on to her shoulders ... her crooked shoulders ... and the look in her eyes turned his unease into fear. ‘You know who I am and you know why I’m here,’ she said.
Suddenly Gerald saw the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, confronted outside his own front door by this ridiculous creature who, for some reason, had got herself up in a strange collection of old clothes. If he was honest he did have some idea why she was haunting him like this: it would be something to do with the other maid she used to work with - the tasty baggage with ideas above her station. But this one was such an insignificant little bag of bones that all he had to do was push her out of the way.
He began to laugh. ‘Joke’s over,’ he said, and he raised a hand to give her a shove.
And then he felt his arm seized from behind and yanked with such force that he felt his shoulder dislocate. Spinning round in pain and fury, he found himself facing Valentino Alvini.
‘What ...? Where ...?’
Gerald was shaking with rage and fright. He realized that Alvini must have been waiting down the steps in the area yard - and so must the woman. That was why she had seemed to spring up out of nowhere. And, of course, the little witch was married to the big dimwit, wasn’t she? What a pair - a crookback and an addlehead. God help the world if they ever had children.
But he didn’t like the way Alvini was looking at him. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I wasn’t going to hurt your wife. I just want her to get out of the way so that I can go home.’
Gerald saw the big man glance sideways and he turned to see Nella walking round to stand next to her husband.
‘Should I let him go home, Nella?’
To see the giant of a man waiting obediently for orders from the diminutive woman was so bizarre that, in spite of the pain in his shoulder, Gerald began to laugh. He held his right arm close to his body, supporting his elbow with his left hand and began to back away from them, all the time making strange choking noises that were halfway between a laugh and a sob.
‘No, Valentino, he can’t go home. This man hurt me.’
‘Hurt you?’ Valentino’s brow
s drew together in a puzzled frown.
By God he’s trying to think, Gerald thought, but his scorn turned to apprehension as he saw confusion begin to give way to anger ... and then rage.
‘Yes, sweetheart. This man hurt me badly.’
‘I didn’t!’ Gerald screamed as Valentino took a step towards him, one powerful arm raised threateningly. ‘I never hurt you - I never even touched you! Why are you lying like this?’
‘You know why,’ Nella muttered, and she took a step backwards.
Her husband had caught the movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head. ‘Nella, what do you want me to do?’
Gerald watched as the woman stared up into her husband’s face. What was she thinking? Why was she just looking at him like that instead of provoking him to violence as she had so obviously intended? Slowly she reached up and placed a hand on the big man’s arm. She pulled it down.
‘Nothing, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you to do anything except take me home.’
Gerald had been holding his breath. Now, as the strange pair looked at each other and he saw that they were actually smiling, he let his breath out slowly and turned to go. He was safe. Facing his father’s tirade would be nothing compared to what might have happened if the strange creature hadn’t suddenly called her bruiser off.
The small hands landed in the middle of his back with such force that he lost his footing and began to fall. He flung his arms out and tried to grasp the iron railings but he missed and, slipping on the top step, he began his headlong progress down into the area yard.
The pain when he hit his head was excruciating. He lay amongst the coal dust feeling sick and disorientated. He looked up and saw the globe of the streetlamp hanging above him. And something else. The little crookback was standing on the top step looking down at him. He moaned and felt hot vomit rise in his throat.
‘That’s right,’ he heard her say. ‘You can lie there and die for all I care.’
And then a mist obscured his vision and her face dissolved and became part of the light ... the light that was fading ... slowly ... until the world went black.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The tram came to a shuddering halt in the Haymarket and Constance made her way to the rear platform. She paused in dismay. The rain, which had not seemed so bad viewed through the steamed-up fug of the windows, was heavier than she’d anticipated. The sky had not even been cloudy when she left the house and she had not thought to bring an umbrella. She should have done; April was living up to its reputation.
‘Hurry up, pet, there’s folks has got shoppin’ to do!’
Constance turned to see a stout, cheery woman standing behind her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she began, but the woman smiled and nudged her to one side.
‘Here you are,’ she said as she leaned out of the tram and opened a large black umbrella. ‘You can share this.’
As she stepped down from the tram, she held the umbrella high above her head with one hand and pulled Constance towards her with the other. ‘Hawway, pet, grab me arm and run, or you’ll get that bonny blue coat splashed. Them automobile drivers never slow down when it’s wet. They divven’t seem to care!’
The two of them set off together across the cobbles and the tram tracks until they reached the pavement, laughing and breathless. Constance turned to face her new friend and smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Where are you going now?’ the woman asked. ‘You can walk along with me until we get to the shops. Are you going down Percy Street?’
‘No, that’s kind of you, but I’m going right here - the coffee shop.’
‘All right then, pet. I’ll walk you to the door. There. Tarra, then.’
Her saviour hurried away and Constance dived into the warm, steamy atmosphere of Alvini’s. She almost hadn’t come here today. She wanted to see Nella, that was true, but she had also hoped that she might see Frank. And that hope had unsettled her. But the absurd little episode with the umbrella had left her feeling exhilarated. She was smiling as she went up to the counter.
‘Sit down, madam, and I’ll send a waiter.’ The tall, handsome woman smiled at her. ‘Oh, but wait a minute, it’s Mrs Edington, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Belle McCormack. I remember you from that day when you came with Miss Nicholson - Mrs Alvini, now - to meet the family.’
‘Well, it’s Nella I want to see, actually. That’s why I came.’
Mrs McCormack frowned. ‘Oh dear, I think you’ve missed her.’
‘Is she ... is she at rehearsal?’ Constance had a very hazy idea of how Nella’s days were spent when she wasn’t actually appearing on the stage but she had thought that she might catch her this early in the morning.
‘No, not today. But, look, if you go and sit at that table over there, I’ll send word up to the family and see if they know when she’s coming back.’
Constance made her way to the table by the window. Her dash through the rain and the resulting feeling of wellbeing seemed to have sharpened her senses. The smell of the customers’ damp clothes, the pervasive odour of coffee, the sounds of the coffee machine and the hum of conversation were all heightened.
She had barely taken her place at the table when a young waiter brought over a pot of coffee and a slice of almond cake. ‘Mrs McCormack’s compliments,’ he said.
Constance smiled her thanks and removed her gloves. The hot coffee was just what she needed and the cake looked delicious.
After a while she turned to stare at her own reflection in the window. The fur trimming on her hat sparkled with a spattering of stray raindrops and the spray of feathers attached to the hat pin was drooping limply. She raised a hand and brushed a loose tendril of hair back from her face and laughed softly.
Beyond the café window people hurried by as quickly as they could. Two or three market stalls on the opposite corner were braving it out, their owners huddled under dripping tarpaulins. The cab drivers sat stoically in their cabs, dressed in long waterproof capes; she felt sorry for the patient, steaming horses.
‘Mrs Edington?’ Constance looked up to find Frank Alvini looking down at her. ‘May I join you?’
She had hoped for this and yet dreaded it. All she could do was nod in agreement as he took the seat opposite to her. His black hair was brushed back severely from his high brow and his dark suit made him look quite forbidding. Until he smiled. His smile transformed him. His dark eyes and irregular, mobile features radiated wit and warmth. Constance wished she could share that warmth more often.
He turned and raised an arm and, immediately, the same young waiter hurried across with a fresh pot of coffee.
‘You came to see Nella?’
‘Yes.’
‘My brother and his wife are out looking at houses. They want to buy a place of their own.’
‘I see.’
‘Are you so very disappointed that she isn’t here?’
‘Disappointed, yes. But why do you ask?’
‘Because a moment ago, before I joined you, I saw that you were smiling - you looked happy. But now your smile is gone and you are barely speaking above a whisper. But maybe that is my fault.’
‘Why should it be?’
‘Perhaps you are remembering the last time we met ... the circumstances. Perhaps you don’t wish to be reminded.’
Constance remembered how he had taken her hands in his. The feel of his skin against hers. The sensations his fingers had aroused as he brushed them across her palms ... She lowered her gaze. ‘Well, yes, I don’t like to think about it, but the fact is, that was why I wanted to see Nella - to tell her how grateful I am that she came that day. And that she brought ... brought you with her.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Because you believed me - believed that I wasn’t mad. Do you know, I’d begun to convince myself that I might be. But I behaved like that because I was unhappy, I was driven to it by ... by ...’ She faltered and stared at him helplessly.
/> ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me.’
Frank reached across the table and took her hand. She was shocked by her own reaction. She felt the same excitement as last time only now, if possible, it was more intense. She stared at her hand in his. Suddenly she found it difficult to breathe.
She heard him sigh and looked up to find that he was staring down at her hand - at her wedding ring. She pulled her hand away.
They sat staring at each other, then, ‘And are you happy now, Constance?’ he asked. ‘Did you come to tell Nella that everything is all right now?’